The wrong number and fantasy woe…

It’s not fair…

It is a dark and stormy night. But earlier today it was almost 80 degrees! Yesterday was in the 70s also. However, on April Fools Day it snowed. Yes, it snowed. The people in Cleveland decided to forget how to drive in the snow and there was a pile up on 77. Luckily I was working from home. I don’t think this is going to last though. As we move back into the workplace I am rediscovering little joys I forgot. Like listening to the guru on the Sirius fantasy channel. I have come to the sad conclusion that my fantasy team, The Killer Tomatoes, is just pathetic and in need of a new name. The Cleveland Indians will not be the only team changing names, but I’m going to give the Tomatoes one more year. My problem is that I get sucked into the rookie or sleeper mode. I want to strike it big like in Vegas. But I end up with a bunch of rookies and the sleepers stay asleep. Our league, Cut That Meat, has been together for years and years and I’ve only won once.

Looks scary, right? not so much…

While walking Chester in the snow, I was thinking of new names for my sad fantasy team (suggestions are welcome). The I heard the theme from Harry Potter. That would be my cell phone. I carry it with me in case I fall or something I can call my husband to come get Chester. And he might even get me. Anyway, I looked at who was calling. It was a 330 number which is somewhere near Akron, not that far. It could be someone I know, or from work. So I answered it.

“Hello”

“Yes, you have an ad in the busy beaver?”

“What?”

“The ad in the busy beaver?”

(silence)

“I think you have the wrong number I don’t know what the busy beaver is.”

“Umm hold on, is this umm 321-3134?”

“No, it’s not.”

OK about now it was dawning on me that this might be a phone call I might want to get out of. I mean he sounded nice enough, but the longer I stay on the line the longer he has to sell me something, right?

“Ohhhh, I see what I did.”

“OK, thank you.” (and I hung up)

Why on God’s green earth did I thank him? Come on, Martha, what were you thinking? Thanks guy for calling me and interrupting my thoughts of fantasy stardom. I was on the verge of a breakthrough name there. Sheesh.

No really I didn’t care, but as we walked on I wondered what the busy beaver was. It hit me that it may be a sex line, like I’m supposed to talk all hot. I got a chuckle out of that one, because I could talk the talk but I’d be picking up Chester poo at the same time which isn’t exactly walking the walk he’s probably thinking.

I went home and after burrowing under a blanket like a kid after bedtime I looked up the busy beaver. Turns out it’s a home improvement store in Ashtabula which is only 20 miles or so from me. I never heard of it! I looked to see if they were hiring, figuring that must be it, but they weren’t. So what ad is he calling about? I was tempted to call him back and ask him.

“Hey, remember me, the lady who thanked you for calling the wrong number? So what ad is in the Busy Beaver and how do I get the ads? What kind of stuff do they have there? Any good sales going on? Do they have Christmas deer that light up? I mean it is snowing here…what’s the garden section like?”

He’d be thrilled I’m sure to make my acquaintance. Actually I’m going to drag my husband to the Busy Beaver when it’s a nice day. We will take the Model A and drive through Dairy Queen. This must be done after my diabetes blood work is taken tomorrow. But so it shall be written, so it shall be done.

THIS IS IT!

On another note, I am a terrible dog mom. We were on the park side of the fence when who should walk by on the other side but Enzo and his owner. (for the newer readers, Enzo and Chester got into it ONE TIME and ever since are arch enemies) Enzo did absolutely nothing (good dog) but Chester went berserk (bad, bad). Why, Chester, why??? The gate to the park has about a foot in between the rails…it’s for cars not for Chesters. Chester was throwing himself around, I was hanging on for dear life (Enzo’s probably) and Chester was trying to shove his big head through the gate. I did the unthinkable. I dumped some water on his head. He stopped lunging and looked confused. While I had his attention for 2 seconds I told him to “LEAVE IT.” He whined a little but oh my, he left it. Granted it was halfway down the street by now.  I do not advocate this as a training method in any way, in fact it’s probably just one more reason for him to hate Enzo, although that may not be possible. But sometimes we all slip a little and at least he didn’t dislocate my arm. I did buy a clicker and some cat treats (for Chester not the cats) so I can try to continue his PetSmart basic training. He did graduate believe it or not, I have his diploma. He got an extra biscuit because I felt bad. I hope Enzo got one too for having to put up with the Chester display.

I’m a good dog.

Have a good weekend, and send me some fantasy name ideas. I will give you naming rights in the fantasy stadium.

By the way, I’m glad they are going to change the Indians name. It’s overdue. Just please not the Spiders…the mascot for the New School in NYC is the Narwhal. What about that???

Take care.

Published by

marthadilo3

A classic overthinker trying to age gracefully while living with a big, too smart for his own good shelter pup who must have his daily walk.

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